The 76th Annual Hunger Games
by Careless Error
Summary: Alaura Sommers' world is turned upside down when she hears the news that she will be a tribut in the final Hunger Game along with her cousin Myra. How will she cope with the fact that only one can come out of this alive? Read and find out.
1. The Reaping

Let the Hunger Games Begin

"Don't go Alaura, don't leave me." Myra whispered.

"Don't worry, I won't leave you." I took her bloodied hand in mine and squeezed it tight. I tried to fight the tears pouring down my cheeks. I had to stay strong, for Myra's sake.

"I'm afraid, I- I don't want to die." she coughed out, showering me with droplets of blood. She looked up at me, her brown eyes full of fear. I could see she was on the verge of crying herself.

"You're not going to die, I won't let you. Myra listen to me, you have to stay strong okay? We're going to make it through this just keep holding on." but I could see the life slipping from her eyes and her hand went limp. The thought of losing her sent me into a frenzy, "Myra, Myra! You have to hold on, please. You can't leave me here. Don't leave me Myra." she slowly locked eyes with me, and using her last ounces of energy opened her mouth to speak.

"It's over Alaura, you've won." she wheezed. She gave me one last smile before her lids fluttered close.

"NO! NO PLEASE MYRA! You can't leave me here!" I took both shoulders in my hands and shook her, trying to somehow revive her. I refused to believe that she could be dead. After all that we have been through she couldn't just leave me like this, alone in this God forsaken place. But it was all over. I heard the cannon sound its final blast signalling that she was gone.

"CONGRATULATIONS ALUARA SOMMER'S, YOUR ARE DECLARED THE WINNER OF THE 76TH HUNGER GAMES!" The voice of the head game maker blared over the P.A. system as colourful confetti rained down on me from the heavens. In other circumstances I may have been relieved or even happy that I'd survived, but right now those were the last things that were going through my head. The only thing I could think of was that Myra was gone.

Her name sent me into a frenzy all over again. I doubled over on top of her, half sobbing half screaming into her body. I didn't want to accept that she was gone. I knew that both of us couldn't make it out of the arena, but I never thought that she would be the one leaving me here. She was so liked back home, she had tons of friends and family who loved her. Me? I had my parents, and the only other person that I really cared for was her… She was my best friend, my only real friend. And now she's gone. I'll never be able to talk to her again. We'll never stay up late together telling corny jokes, laughing all night with each other. She'll never call me at 3:00 am crying over some guy that broke her heart, or someone who had spread some nasty rumour.

"God, why couldn't it have been me? Why her? Why?" I looked up into the sky, the sun blinding my vision thinking that maybe he could change something. But I knew that there was nothing he, or anyone else could do. Myra was gone forever, it was over.

4 WEEKS EARLIER

"It will be ok, don't worry. Everything will be fine." I looked into my mothers hazel eyes, trying to believe that what she was saying was true. But I knew it wasn't, and she knew it too. But she would try to convince us both of it none the less. I gave her hand a reassuring

squeeze, it was the best I could do. I wanted to tell her that I knew it would all work out somehow but I couldn't bring myself to speak, out of fear that my voice would give away how I actually felt.

And right now, I was terrified.

Weeks ago we were given the news that there would be one final Hunger Games featuring the children of the people who held the most power during the time of the rebellion. Being the granddaughter of President Snow I'm almost certain that I'm going into the games. I'm not yet sure what they're going to do or how they're going to do it since that was the only information we received, well that and the date of the reaping. Since then it felt as though a grim fog had settled over me and my family, my parents have been fighting non-stop and my mother has been in such a state that she's left the house maybe once or twice since we've gotten the news. And I've just been trying to keep it together for both of them. I put on a brave face, pretending that it's no big deal, that I'll be fine but on the inside I've almost given up all and any hope for staying alive. It's not like in the other districts where people have skills in working outdoors, here we don't learn any of that. We just go to school to learn things like the history of Panem, not what type of berries are poisonous or how to build shelters. The only chance I have of staying alive out there is memory of some of the past Hunger games, but thinking back on it couldn't really recall anything off the top of my head.

Then I started thinking about what it would actually be like fighting and killing other children. Just the thought of doing that to someone else sent shivers up my spine. But it made me start to wonder, could I actually kill someone? I'd never had to ask myself that question, and I'd like to think that I could never do something that barbaric but I haven't spent any time in the arena yet. Year after year I've seen kids kill each other mercilessly thinking how I could never do something like that? But the arena changes people, I just hoped that it wouldn't change me.

/Snap out of it!/ I told myself. I couldn't think about that, I was just going to get myself all worked up over something that I didn't need to worry about yet. I looked down at my fingers and could already see that they were starting to shake from the thought. I tried t hide them from my mother, shoving them into the pockets of my brown trousers.

/Just try and think of something else. Anything else would be better than this/

I looked around the square for something that might occupy my mind. I focused on the massive clock that stood in the centre of the square. Only a minute before the reaping would begin. I moved closer to my mother clutching her closer to my side. These might be some of the last moment that I'll have with her and I didn't want them to go to waste. I rested my head on her shoulder and waited for the chime that would mark that it was noon. It seemed that only a few seconds had passed before the bells starting ringing and people starting climbing up on stage.

As soon as President Paylor stepped up to the mic the crowd went silent. I could see her relatively well from where I stood and I understood why she was chosen to be the new president. Everything about her was authoritative. Her mousy brown hair tied back in a slick bun and the lines on her face which gave her a stern look. Even the way she spoke made you feel as though you had to obey.

As she began to explain to us how the reaping will be done this year my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. She explained to us that this year would be the final year that the Hunger games would be held, and the tributes would all be children or grandchildren of the people who held the most power during the time of the rebellion. She then explained that instead of adding our names extra times for tessarae that the amount of times that our names was entered was depending on how much power our relative held. As she said this a huge white screen rose up behind her showing us an image of a blue chart.

"The chart shown behind me shows the name of the child, whether they're a boy or girl and how many times their name was entered, so that you all have an idea what your chances are." the way she said it made it sound almost as though she were doing all of us a favour. But this only made me feel more uneasy because when I looked for my name on the chart I didn't have to look long. I was the very first name, with my name being put in 134 more times than the one directly below me.


	2. An Unwelcome Surprise

I started frantically checking the other children's names. How could I have 196 ballots while the girl directly bellow me only has 62?

_Wait, maybe it isn't in numerical order, I may be first because of my name_.This gave me a glimmer of hope. If even just one person had more ballots than me then maybe I still had a chance. But when I started checking and rechecking the names I realized that I did have the most ballots.

I felt my arms start shake and I turned to see my mother with tears silently pouring down her face, I guess she had just come to the same realization as me. I opened her arms and brought her into a hug.

"It's okay mom, I'll be f-fine." I tried to tell her, my voice cracking on the last syllable of the sentence. "I-I know the odds are against me, but fate works in strange ways, you told me that remember?" I think what I was saying was starting to work because quickly she tried to compose her self and started wiping up the tears with her purple sleeve.

"Y-your right honey, I don't know what came over me right then. It must have just been the stress." she let out a high pitched chuckle as though that would somehow make me believe that that was the reason why she was crying. She and I both knew why, but she wasn't going to outwardly admit to me that she knew I was going into the arena so I didn't bother to reply and just stood there holding her.

President Paylor let out a little cough bringing back the crowds attention. She readjusted her suite as she waited for the audience to quiet down.

"So, now that all of you have had a chance to check your position I see no reason to prolong the inevitable anymore. So Katniss, if you would do the honours," President Paylor stepped away from the microphone and motioned for someone to take the stand I finally noticed the people sitting on chairs behind her. There was probably about 10 or so, most of them people that I recognized as past victors. Peeta Mellark, Haymitch Abernathy, Johannah Mason and so on. As Katniss Everdeen stood from her chair situated in the middle of the stage I could feel hate start to well up inside of me. This was the girl who ruined all of our lives, and now she has the audacity to come up here and tell us who will be sent into the games. Who does she think she is? 'The Girl On Fire' everyone used to call her here in the Capital. Everyone seemed to adore her until she decided that she was going to round up the rebels and take everything that we've ever known away from us. I could feel myself start to shake as she made her way up to the podium and started to speak. I guess my mother interpreted my shivers as fear because she gave me a squeeze.

"Let's just get this over with." she mumbled into the microphone. Well, at least she didn't try to pretend that this was some type of special occasion that we should be excited for like everyone else. I was glad that she didn't try to sugar coat anything, because at this point nobody wants to be comforted.

She walked over to the glass bowl on her left and got ready to start. I could tell that she looked uncomfortable, nervous even. I wasn't sure why she was so worried considering she wasn't going into the arena. "Ladies first." she murmured and dig her hand into the bowl. My heart started to drum against my chest, every extra second she took felt like an eternity as we waited for her to read off the first name.

"Marchella Castor." she read and I somehow recognized that name, but not sure where from. I heard a cry erupt from somewhere ahead of me and I stood up on my toes to see a short blonde girl hugging a what looked to be her sobbing mother. The blonde-who must have been Marchella-tried to pull away but the woman wouldn't let her and kept her in a tight embrace. Finally after many tries the woman released her and she climbed up on stage. I noticed that once on stage the massive screen behind started to blink and I could see that her name had been highlighted in yellow. Her name was the name directly below mine and I now knew where I recognized the name from. Her father was the vice president, or at least used to be. I remembered that whenever grandpa would have dinner parties their family would usually come over for a drink or desert, but they'd never stay long. I'd never really taken notice of them though, probably because they were always so quiet, probably intimidated by grandpa.

Katniss started to read off name after name, every time I could feel myself getting more and more anxious. "Orenda Thorn, Petra Gardner, Coralie Swinton etc." Each name sending up an outburst of cries and sobs from the families of the tributes and the tributes themselves. And with every name being called a shred of hope started to well up inside of me.

_Maybe my name won't be called. It's possible right?_ I thought to myself.

Finally Katniss had called out the tenth tribute -a girl named Wynn who had a sweet face and flaming red hair- when she plunged her hand in for the eleventh time.

"Alaura Sommers!" she announced. I heard a shriek escape my mothers mouth as she sunk to the ground at my feet. I was in shock, the voice of Katniss Everdeen still ringing in my ears.

_She just called my name... _I thought stupidly to myself. The full realization of what this meant hadn't yet sunk in and I was still almost stunned by the sudden anouncement of my name. In an almost trance like state I pulled my mother to her feet and gave her one last hug, wrapping my arms around her trying to enjoy the last minutes I might have with her. She began to sob on my shoulder, staining my clothing with her tears. I could feel tears start to pool in the corners of my eyes as the realization that these may be some of the final moments that I might have with her. But I couldn't cry, not now atleast. I could feel the eyes of the crowd on my back; if I cried right now everyone would see me as a weakling and that was the last thing I needed right now.

I pulled away from my mother, as much as I didn't want to it was time to say goodbye. I couldn't hold everyone up with my petty needs. As I pulled away my mother grabbed my by both my shoulders and turned me around so we were face to face.

"Be strong, you hear me? Show them what your made of, and don't you dare give up okay?" she pleaded.

"I-I promise." I choked out, I could feel the tears start to pour down my cheeks and I fought to keep them contained. "I love you."

"I love you too. Y-you go and make me proud." her voice was shaking and I could tell she was going to burst into tears any second. I gave her one last hug and made my way up to the stage. The crowd parted to make way for me and I could feel their eyes burning into the back of my skull.

_Just one step in front of the other. Just keep walking, don't look back. _I wiped the tears out of my eyes and tried to seem brave like the others on the stage. This was no time to be emotional.

As I finally made it to my place next to the others on the stage Katniss called out the last name for the girls.

"Myra Sommers!" and I felt my heart plummet.

_No, please god no. Not her. _But my prayers would go unanswered as I saw the young looking fourteen year old make her way out of the crowd, her curly chestnut hair whipping behind her as she made her way towards the stage. She met my eyes and I'm sure she could see the desperation in them, but she was strong not giving off the slightest hint that she was scared. I wished I could be as strong as her. As she stepped on stage I took her hand and clutched it in mine.

"We can do this." I whispered, I'm not sure who I was trying to comfort., me or her.

"Haven't we always?" she looked at me and tried to smile. Somehow that filled me with a new hope. Maybe she's right, maybe we can somehow make it.

After Myra's name had been called Katniss started to announce the names of the boys. Most of them didn't show any emotion, but some cracked under the pressure. Some started crying, others started shaking some just simply broke down. I was glad that I kept it together, because from where right now I knew exactly who I should steer clear from and who posed as no threat.

Finally the last tribute had been announced- a boy named Citron with highlighter orange hair who looked about my age- and President Paylor took the stand again thanking us for coming and finally allowing everyone to leave. Men in suites ushered us off the stage and led us into the Capitol building. All of them men where suited with bullet proof vests and firearms and had us surrounded on both sides. What did they think we were going to do, try to run? I felt like a prisoner being held captive, is this how they treated the tributes from past years? As criminals or captives?

They led us through the two front doors and down a hallway I'd been down countless times before. This was where many of the board meeting were. I expected that we'd be brought into one of these rooms but instead they led us farther and farther down the hallway. The farther along we got the worse the condition of the hallway became. Cobwebs hung on the wood paneling and the carpets were tattered. This far down the hallway there were no longer any windows and an eerie feeling hung over me.

"Where are they taking us?" Myra whispered in my ear. I just shrugged my shoulders and continued to walk in silence.

It seemed like we'd been walking forever, but finally after many twists and turns through the building we came to a stop. The guards held us back as one of them pulled out a key and opened the door causing a loud creak. I could see nothing but a thin dark sliver of the room. Before I knew what was happening a pair of strong arms latched on to me and I was being thrust inside the dark room. I started to stumble over myself bumping into the others causing a fair amount of complaints. It was so dark in the room that I couldn't even see my own hand. Finally I'd caught my footing and started trying to feel for the wall.

"Where are we?" I heard someone ask

"Ah shit that hurts, get off of me." I heard someone grumble followed by a loud thud as someone was pushed to the floor.

"Someone find the light switch, there's got to be one in here." but there was no use since as someone said it the lights immediately turned on. It was a second before my lights adjusted and I realized where we were.

A gasp escaped all of our lips as we all came to the realization that we'd been thrust into the arena.


End file.
